


Without a Home

by Anonymous



Series: Without a Home Verse [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Sleepy Bois Inc, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Adoption, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, BBH needs a hug, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, I promise everything will be OK, It's kinda his thing, Loneliness, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Past Child Abuse, Phil Adopts Everyone, Potatoes, Running Away, Sibling Bonding, Social Anxiety, Techno has adhd, Techno is a mess. Phil is trying., Technoblade has ADHD, skeppy needs a hug, technoblade needs a hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:53:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27813331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Technoblade doesn't remember a time that he wasn't alone.  He's never had anyone to rely on, and he fully expects his temporary placement with Phil and his two sons, Wilbur and Tommy, to be the latest in a long line or horrible situations. Spoilers: It's not.
Relationships: Dave | Technoblade & Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Nothing romantic
Series: Without a Home Verse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2081844
Comments: 65
Kudos: 804
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Arrival

Techno slouched in his seat as he waited for the social worker to get back to the car. She’d answered her phone and apparently decided that the almost-fifteen-year-old didn’t get to hear her conversation, so now he was sitting waiting quietly to find out what group home he was being sent to this time. His ankle throbbed painfully, as did his hand and his side, but he ignored it. He wasn’t weak.

“Techno” The woman, it wasn’t his usual worker so he hadn’t managed to remember her name, slid back into the car, phone now in her hand so she’d clearly hung up. “You’re lucky, we’ve got an emergency placement spot for you for the next week or so, until we can find somewhere more long-term.” he doesn’t respond, and he hears her sigh in frustration before starting the car up.

It’s a nice house that she drives him to, too nice for the too-thin teen with bruises and blood on his hands. He clung to his ratty backpack, dark eyes darting around the too-small space as he scrambles out of the car before the worker has even turned it off, ignoring her annoyed shout after him.

She leads him to the door, and a sandy-haired man with kind eyes opens it. “Hi there kid; it’s very nice to meet you.” He doesn’t give the woman next to him the satisfaction of a response but he can  _ feel  _ her glaring at him. “Techno, be polite” she scolds loudly and Phil opens his mouth to say that it’s fine, because it is, but the damage has been done as the thin teenager gives a short “hi.”

Phil steps back to let them in, grimacing internally at the look on the teen’s face. It was somewhere between defiance and  _ fear  _ and between that and his torn clothes and clearly bloodstained hands, the boy was quite the sight. Phil led the way to his bedroom, which was between Wilbur and Tommy’s. “I have two sons about your age; Tommy is a bit younger and Wilbur’s a bit older. This’ll be your room, if you need  _ anything  _ please ask, ok? I’ll be right downstairs talking to the worker.”

Techno keeps his bag in his hands, slowly moving to the bathroom he’d seen next to the living room. He leaned his head against the thin wall, catching the conversation Phil and the woman were having. Most of it was very boring; allergies, past “issues,” stuff like that.

“I promise this’ll be a max of two weeks, thank you so much for this I know you weren’t looking for any placement at the moment. We aren’t expecting a miracle just try to keep him from running off in the next two weeks, please?” There’s a pause, and then the man speaks up again, his voice harder somehow, despite his words. “Alright, I have your number if there’s any issues, thank you.” 

He stays in his room. It’s strange, to have his  _ own  _ room, but it’s nice to get to wrap himself in one of the too-soft blankets on the bed. He  _ aches,  _ dropping his fingers to prod at his ribs and grimacing at the shoot of pain up his side. Yeah...he needs to get himself checked over now, since the adrenaline of running has more than worn off.

His ribs are badly bruised, but he doesn’t feel any fractures. His ankle is more swollen than he’d like, considering that it’s pretty hard to hide a limp, but it holds his weight and the pain isn’t bad enough for him to think it’s broken, more just badly sprained. Ice would be...nice, but a luxury he doesn’t have. His hand is his biggest concern; he’s definitely fractured one of his hand bones, at least, and he thinks his middle finger, too. 

Splinting it would be too obvious, and he knows it, but...hmm...can he get away with wearing gloves? He has fingerless ones...he could tape his hand, he’s pretty sure he has that tape that athletes or something use...somewhere, and a phone to google...except he has no data plan. Fuck. 

He’s pulled out of these thoughts by a knock on his door. “Techno, you in there kid?” He makes a sound and the man keeps speaking. “Dinner’s going to be in a few minutes, Ok? We’re having pasta.” 

Techno makes his way downstairs, because if he’s being  _ offered  _ a meal he isn’t well going to say no even if he’s pretty sure it’s a trap. He’d lost too much weight in the last home; he wouldn’t last long enough if he ran and he knew it. He felt a stab of relief when he saw that the man had already portioned out the food; one less thing for him to mess up on and get punished. 

There were two other teens at the table; a  _ tall  _ boy with dark hair and a smaller one, blond ish. Both gave him a small wave and he approached cautiously, waiting for the older man to sit before he did, finding himself between the man and the smaller teen. “Hi! I’m Tommy” The boy gave him a loud introduction and it took all of his will not to flinch. “ ‘m Wilbur.” The older teen grunted. Techno is about to open his mouth to say his own name when the man, who he just about remembers is named Phil, simply says “This is Techno, I expect both of you to treat him well while he’s here.

Phil went to bed worried that night. The boy was so quiet, and then when he wasn’t he was rude and standoffish. Wilbur already didn’t like him, and Phil hoped sincerely that he hadn’t made the wrong decision. “It’s just two weeks” he reminded himself. Surely everything would be fine.

There was no closet in his room. There was a dresser but Techno was far too tall to hide in there and he paced his room, feeling irrationally afraid. He wrapped the blanket tighter around himself, pressing into the small space between the desk and the wall where he could see the whole room. He did not sleep that night.

The next day was Monday. He was up before dawn, since he hadn’t slept, scrambling to use the shower for a few precious moments when he hoped no one would be awake to hear. He let his long hair dry, pulling it back into a ponytail so it wouldn’t rub against his back, and settled down leaning against the wall in the corner of the living room to wait.

Phil’s face tightened when he saw the teen standing in the corner of the room looking like he’d barely slept. “Good morning Techno, are you ready for school?” Phil’s home was in the same district as his last home, a small mercy to the exhausted teen. “The bus should be here in about an hour.”

He watches silently as Tommy and Wilbur get up, both wolfing down toast and cereal. Wilbur glances over in his direction, something softening slightly in his eyes. “D’you want breakfast mate?” Techno freezes, eyes flickering around the room because this  _ had to  _ be a test, but Wilbur is insistent, holding out a plate. 

“Eat.” It comes out as too much of an order but Techno immediately sits, taking a hesitant bite. When nothing happens he takes another then another, devouring the food in quick, frantic motions. He boards to bus to school with Wilbur slowly, sitting all the way in the back and trying not to cry. 

He sat in the back of his classes. He didn’t speak, didn’t answer a single question, and got 100 on every test they gave so at some point they stopped trying to make him. At lunch, he ignored the $5 Phil had given him for food; that went into his bag in the safe spot where he had...two dollars and 25 cents. He knew he’d run before the two weeks was over but maybe he could get enough money, and some more meat on his bones, and have a chance.

He can’t sleep. His clothes feel too tight on his skin and he can’t get enough air and he’s  _ so tired it’s been 3 days since he slept and he needs to sleep _ but he can’t look at the bed, _ in the middle of the room with space on both sides and under it  _ without fear spiking in his chest. 

Before he has time to tell himself it’s a bad idea he’s spinning, aching right hand hitting the wall. He goes still, because suddenly  _ fuck, fuck, I’m between the other kids, FUCK.  _ He stills, presses his back to the wall and curls his bleeding hand to his chest and  _ prays  _ that no one comes. 

He’s never been lucky enough for that. The door swings open and he finds himself looking Up at the face of a surprisingly wide awake Wilbur, who is looking at him with a look that he can’t read entirely but that he thinks for a moment might just be  _ anger.  _


	2. Best friends and Lost Hopes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No one has hurt Technoblade since he moved in with Phil. It just makes it hurt even worse when he remembers that he only gets this for maybe another week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...Bad and Skeppy arrive! and, might've taken over the chapter in the middle for a bit. Oops. They'll be back, and I'm so sorry for more angst I tried to have some comfort too...proper SBI comfort next chapter I promise. Phil's going to actually get to interact with Techno next chapter! Finally!

Wilbur stared at the boy before him. He was trembling, one arm wrapped tightly around himself, the other pressed to his chest, and Wilbur could see that his hand was bleeding. More worrying than that, though, was the blank look on his face and the tremor that had set into the boy, who was swaying slightly. “Hey dude, sit down.” Wilbur’s voice isn’t as kind as he was trying for and the boy flinched away, swaying a little.

It was then that Wilbur noticed where the boy was; he had his back to the corner, lights on so that he could see the entire room. His dark eyes darted back and forth across the room and he bit his lip, pale face so readably  _ terrified  _ under the anger he was clearly trying to project. 

“Get out get out get OUT!” The teen snarled, but Wilbur couldn’t be less afraid of the boy who looked about ready to pass out. Wilbur held both hands up, trying to keep his voice as gentle as he could. “Ok kid, I need you to sit down and breathe, ok? I’m not gonna tell Phil, dude, but you need to breathe.” It gets through at least a little because Techno sinks to the ground, presses his face into his knees at an angle where his eyes are still up so he can still see Wilbur.

“I’m gonna go get my first aid kit.” he ducks back to his room, grabbing it and returning a few moments later to find that Techno literally hadn’t moved a muscle. He tossed over some wound cleaning stuff and a bandage, watching as the boy easily wrapped his hand in a way that made it kind of feel like he’d done it too many times before. 

“Is there anything else I can do?” Techno’s dark eyes darted around the room, scooting a little further back into his corner, eyes wide and skittish. Wilbur just looked at him for a moment, before giving a small nod. “You can shout if you need anything dude. Or hit the wall again. Sleep well.”

He doesn’t sleep well, but he does doze, wrapped up in a ball in the corner. He doesn’t even remember the morning, or most of the school day; he’s pretty sure he just spent the entire time dissociating at his desk.

He was jerked back to reality by Skeppy dropping down in front of his desk with a wide smile. “Hey dude.” His usually joyously rambunctious friend looks  _ worried _ and it’s not a good look on him. “C’mon, lunch time.” Techno has to take a long moment to sort through the words but he manages to nod, hauling himself up.

He and Skeppy, and Skeppy’s best friend Bad, didn’t usually eat in the cafeteria; it was too loud for Techno or Bad to be comfortable and while Skeppy had a tendency to be oblivious, he was actually much better at reading people than most gave him credit for.

Today, he just leaned against Techno’s side and cleaned his scratched up hands with practiced ease. Bad was a few minutes late, and both Skeppy and Techno pretended not to notice that he was crying slightly as he settled against Techno’s other side. “I brought muffins!” 

Techno ate three muffins; he  _ trusted  _ there not to be a cost with Bad in a way he really didn’t with most people and the muffins were fucking delicious. Skeppy was rambling about...minecraft. Yeah. Bad was rummaging in his bag, pulling out a bottle of ibuprofen and passing Techno two before downing two himself, claiming “Headache” to Skeppy’s concerned stare.

“Can we skip?” Skeppy whines, burrowing his head against Bad’s shoulder. The other teen snickered, opening his mouth to say no before glancing over and seeing that Techno was sound asleep leaning against the wall. “Crap” “Shh! And Language” “Sorry dude. We gotta let him sleep right we can’t wake him up he looks so tired.” 

It was the truth; Techno had slept for a few hours the night before, but not enough to make a dent in the dark circles under his eyes or the tremor in his hands. “...Yeah, ok, you guys stay here and I’ll go to class.” “Nooo, Baaaaaaddd” Skeppy whined, curling closer to his best friend with a stab of fear in his chest. “Don’t leave me alone!” 

“...Techno is here.” “But he’s asleep! He’s not...here. Please?” Bad sighs, standing slowly. “I’m sorry you muffin, my dad will be  _ really  _ muffined if he finds out that I’m missing class. I’ll get our homework.” And he leaves, leaves Skeppy hunched in the corner talking to himself in a desperate attempt to get the silence not to settle in his bones even though he knows it won’t work, can already feel the anxiety surging in his chest.  _ He hates you, his _ brain insists, and Skeppy bites his lip and tries to avoid thinking too hard.  _ That’s why he left, he doesn’t want to be your friend anymore he doesn’t want to see you again otherwise he wouldn’t leave.  _

Bad is halfway to the last class of the day when his phone rings. Skeppy’s face pops up and so he ignores it, figuring it was just Skeppy wanting him to come hang out in the closet of doom, as they all called it because of how dark it was.

He was sitting down when his phone started to buzz again about a million times. He glanced down, feeling terror stab in his chest at the string of increasingly incoherent messages from Skeppy, which mostly seemed to be attempts to apologize and a concerning amount of begging.

He  _ ran  _ back to the closet, yanking the door open to find Techno, still sound asleep thankfully. He didn’t see Skeppy at first but with a second scan of the small space he saw his dark-haired friend curled up in the corner, hands clawing at his hair desperately, blood running down his fingers. He didn’t even look like he noticed Bad’s return, even as the taller teen locked the door and pulled his friend into his arms. 

“Shhh, shh, oh my goodness you muffin why didn’t you call me before it got this bad.” He rocked slowly, heart breaking at Skeppy’s stuttering whimpers. “Shhh, shh, I’m right here Skeppy.” It’s  _ too long  _ before Skeppy quiets, and Bad is mostly just grateful he hadn’t woken Techno up since the other teen had a habit of waking up swinging which would really, really not help this moment.

“Skeppy?” Skeppy groaned, burrowing his head into Bad’s shoulder. “Are you ok? What happened?” He sighed, pressing as close to Bad’s side as he could even though the other teen seemed to have no intention of letting go of him. “I didn’t, it was too quiet and...I don’t like being alone, Bad, I  _ don’t,  _ my brain gets going and it’s just...not good. ‘M sorry.”

“Look at me, you muffin.” Skeppy does, tilting his head slowly up to look at him. “You’re a silly muffin you know that. I wouldn’tve left if you told me, no matter what my Dad would say. Please talk to me in the future? I don’t like seeing you hurting.” Skeppy gives a shaky nod, not trusting his words as he presses closer to his friend, closing his eyes and listening to Bad describe his newest idea for a build in minecraft in painfully specific details.

Techno feels a little more alive on the ride home. The sleep had done him good, so he all but bolted into the house. He had a stomach full of muffins, which just reminded him of how desperately  _ hungry  _ he was. He curled up smaller, wrapping his blanket tightly around himself with a low whine. He was trembling fiercely, feeling something seize in his chest because in less than two weeks he’d be gone in a group home somewhere and he wouldn’t have the two people who were the only reason he wasn’t dead.

He’d be really, really, truly  _ alone again.  _ He bit back sobs, trying to stop from bursting into tears at the idea of another cold group home, another round of torture from the  _ older bigger stronger  _ teens who loved to hurt him until he beat their asses up and then he was the bad one, somehow. He didn’t want to be alone again. He pressed his back to the hallway wall, forcing down the panic as he insisted mentally that that wouldn’t happen, it wouldn’t, he wouldn’t let it.

He wasn’t sure how long passed when he heard a voice. He jerked away like he’d been burned, dark eyes meeting the pale blue ones of the younger boy, Tommy his mine supplied him helpfully after a few moments. The boy was talking about...something; Techno managed to catch the word “Breathe.” He bit his lip, hands curling around his knees as he trembled. The other teen didn’t budge, not as Techno spent long minutes fighting for breath, not until he was slumped with his head against his knees breathing shakily.

Tommy just gets up, giving him a nervous smile as he darts back to his room and Techno can’t help but appreciate the lack of social interaction required. He stands shakily, lets his good leg hold him up as he limps back to his room. He finally just gives up, hauls the dresser from the wall and the mattress onto the floor in the corner and curls up on it. The fear doesn’t spike quite as badly as he expected, so he takes a shaky breath, slowly closing his eyes and letting himself sleep, exhaustion-filled body just plain unable to stay awake.

He wakes up to talking. Tommy is talking to Phil, he figures out after a moment, in the hallway in front of Techno’s room. “He looked really upset Phil, and there was blood on his shirt.” Techno blinks; he hadn’t even noticed that some of the blood from Skeppy had stained his shirt. Oops. “I’ll talk to him.” Phil says, and Techno  _ stills  _ at the tone in his voice.

The next two days, Wednesday and Thursday, pass with relatively nothing happening. Techno saves his lunch money, eats whatever food Bad and Skeppy shove at him, and tries not to have a breakdown every afternoon when he reminds himself he’s one day closer to never being safe ever again. 

“Techno, dinner in fifteen minutes. And I need to talk to you after dinner, Ok?” “Ok” He waits for the man to walk down the stairs and away before he moves, grabbing his backpack. He knows that tone, he knows what “talk” means. He’s not  _ surprised  _ that Phil had decided to give him up early; he knew he’d screamed his way through the last two nights. He knew that he’d broken the wall and stained his few clothes with blood and scared his kids and skipped most of his meals. 

He doesn’t give himself time to pack, really, or time to do...anything. He slings the bag over his shoulder, slides the window open, and looks back just once. He’s going to miss this; four days without being attacked, without having a genuine reason to be afraid for his safety, even if he’d had a dozen panic attacks and nightmares, had been a pleasant change.

His sneakers hit the road. He puts his backpack on his back, pulls his arms tightly around himself, and does not let himself look back as he turns and runs as hard and fast as his injured, aching body will let him . 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Techno is very, very not ok. Bad and Skeppy help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So when I said Phil would interact I apparently meant NEXT chapter. Oops?

He didn’t know where he was running; he just let his aching body run and run and run. Everything hurt and he curled up against the wall, trembles overtaking his thin form. He wanted Bad and Skeppy, he wanted to be warm and have food in his stomach and for everything to stop  _ hurting  _ so badly but there was nowhere safe for him not anymore. He couldn’t go back, back to a group home where it would be  _ worse.  _

It was Wilbur who went up to Techno’s room to get him, galloping back down the stairs cursing loudly. “DAD. DAD” Phil glanced up, pretty sure he knew what the issue was going to be. “Techno’s gone!” Phil paled, hurrying to his feet and grabbing his phone to send a text to the boy. “Ok, ok, this is fine, we’re going to find him, I promise. Go get Tommy, put your shoes on, he can’t have gotten far.”

Techno hobbles back into the alleyway. He’d considered running further but he’d somehow managed to end up near some very drunk, pissed off teenagers and if he wasn’t hurting before, he sure was now. He hauled himself back into the alleyway, back to the wall, fumbling with his backpack. He reached for the front pouch, unbuckling it and reaching in and.

And nothing. He blinked, turned his head down to look in the bag, and Luna wasn’t there. Luna, the stupid stuffed pig that Bad and Skeppy had gotten him after they’d had some dumb argument over whether...one of them, he didn’t remember who, slept with a stuffed animal and he’d been dumb enough to offhandedly mention he didn’t think he’d ever had one. Two days later they’d presented him with Luna, and since then the stuffed animal had literally never left his backpack or sight.

He broke. He pressed his face into his knees and howled, thin body shaking with the force of his sobs. He was going to lose his friends and now he was too fucking stupid to not lose the one goddamn thing he had to remember them by. He couldn’t stop  _ sobbing,  _ breaths catching in his chest as he cried.

His phone vibrated against his hip and he twitched, almost instinctively pulling it out. He was too distracted by  _ pain  _ to realize that he must’ve hit the answer button, because Skeppy’s voice filled the air. “Techno my dude, weren’t you supposed to call to work…” His voice trailed off and he must’ve heard Techno crying because when he spoke up again his voice was fully of worry. “Tech? Techno, what’s wrong, you’re ok.”

It just makes him cry harder. He’s going to  _ lose this,  _ he’s going to be on the next bus or train he can find his way to and he’s never going to see them again and the thought of losing the only friends he remembers ever having makes him shake harder. “Tech, breathe man, I’m adding Bad to the call.” He wanted to tell him not to, not to  _ care,  _ they had their own issues they didn’t need his problems too.

Bad’s voice was calmer than Skeppy’s panicked one, but Techno still found himself unable to focus on the words, breaths catching in his chest as he wept. “Techno, where are you man?” He shakes his head; even if he could find the words, he doesn’t think he could speak around his tears. “Ok, it’s ok, please just try and breathe Tech, you’re ok.”

Bad climbed slowly out of his window. He didn’t want to deal with his dad, not today. Skeppy was waiting just down the road and Bad immediately pulled his friend into a hug, seeing the distress on his face. “It’s ok you muffin, we’re gonna find him. Think, if Techno was upset where would he go?” Skeppy just shook his head, staring at the phone from which Techno’s sobs could still be heard. “I...I don’t…near here? The cafe. But it’s closed.” 

Wilbur, Tommy, and Phil drove silently down the road. “I should’ve told you he wasn’t ok.” Wilbur growled and Phil waited till he was at a light before reaching over to squeeze his elder son’s hand. “That isn’t your job, kiddo, I’m the one who messed up ok? But he’s gonna be fine. Everything’s gonna be ok.” Even as he said it he knew neither boy believed him but he had to try as he turned his eyes back to the dark road.  _ Please kid. Please be ok.  _

Usually, the cafe that Bad, Skeppy, and Techno had been to once was about fifteen minutes walking from Bad’s house. Today, he and Skeppy full-on ran and did it in seven, and if they sounded almost as bad as Techno did when they slowed, it was fine. Thankfully it wasn’t exactly hard to hear their friend; Skeppy  _ ran  _ to the alley, though he slowed when Bad tugged on his arm.

“Be slow, if he panics and hits you again he’s never gonna forgive himself.” Thankfully, there seemed to be little danger of that; Techno was far too out of it to notice as they approached. Bad dropped down at his side, slowly taking his phone from his shaking hands as Skeppy draped his coat over the other teen. The air reeked of vomit and blood and Skeppy didn’t want to know how dirty Techno was, but he didn’t  _ care  _ as he reached out and grasped his friend’s hands in his.

“Breathe, Techno, breathe, like Bad showed us that time remember? You’re ok.” He keeps talking but Bad tunes him out, scrolling through Techno’s contacts till he finds the one simply labeled “Current fosters.” He bit his lip; he knew Techno would be upset but his friend was so  _ distraught  _ that nothing else felt safe. He pressed the contact, held the phone to his ear, and prayed to a god he didn’t think he believed in anymore.

Phil almost swerved when his phone rang. Wilbur grabbed it, giving a sharp “It’s him!” He answers, holding it to his ear. “Techno?” “I, uh, no, sorry, I’m Bad, I’m his friend? Who is this?” 

Phil reaches over and takes the phone as he parks. Bad takes a few steps back from Techno, trying to decide exactly what the hell to tell the man. Techno gave a broken sob, pressing his face into his knees. The other teen held his friend’s handstightly and let him cry, paling as Techno gave frantic “D..didn’t mean’ta l...lose her, ‘m s’rry.” Skeppy has 0 idea what his friend is talking about but he just leans against the wall, letting Techno slump down so he’s mostly in his lap.

“...Luna?” Bad mouths, and Skeppy pales, glancing over at the open backpack sans one pig stuffed animal, as the pieces click. “Fuck, fuck, FUCK.” Skeppy growls, only quieting when Techno’s whimpers spike in fear. “Sir, I uh, there’s something I think you need to get sir he’s really upset and he...I think he left something that’s super important to him back at your house and I really do not foresee him calming down without it.” 

Phil nods, even though the skittish teen can’t see it, turning his car around and starting back, trying to shush Wilbur and Tommy’s questions. “What is it? We’ll be there in twenty five minutes.” He can hear the teen hesitate and he sighs, trying very hard not to snap at the boy because this sure as hell wasn’t  _ his  _ fault. “Stuffed pig. Please...please don’t punish him it was our fault.” There’s too much wrong with that sentence for Phil to figure it out now so he just repeats that he’ll be there in 25 minutes, throwing in a “I would never hurt him.” 

Bad drops down next to Skeppy, presses in close so Techno is all but laying between the 2 of them. He’s still sobbing,  _ pleading,  _ but he’s at least not gasping like he’s going to die or throwing up, though Bad can see that he’d managed to stain his shirt  _ and  _ pants with blood and sick. He shushed the trembling teen, running fingers through his dirty hair. “Shh, you muffin, we’re not going to leave you. Did you know Skeppy almost died on the way here?”

Skeppy launched into a round of protests over how that was  _ not  _ true, and the familiar friendly bickering seemed to calm Techno, who just pressed closer to them. It was twenty minutes later when the car pulled up. Techno went still before trying to bolt, making it about 3 feet before falling until Skeppy caught him, bracing his friend. “No no no let me go let me  **GO.** ” he howled and Skeppy guided him to the floor with his back to the corner and took a few  _ large  _ steps back.

Bad went to meet them. Phil blinked in surprise at the tall, thin teen whos hands were working anxiously at the hem of his shirt. “I know you’re his foster parent and the adult so you’re in charge here but please let us make sure he’s ok before you take him because if he gets sent away and we don’t get to know if he’s ok we’re not going to be ok and also he doesn’t trust you and he trusts us though probably not after I called you.” 

Phil blinks, because that’s...a lot to digest in one breath. “Kid, breath.” His voice is kind and Bad sort of blinks at him in confusion. “Here.” He passes over the pig. “No one is getting punished. Or sent away, unless that’s what Techno  _ wants.  _ Ok? I promise. Go make sure he’s ok I don’t want to spook him.” 

Bad wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth so he grabbed Luna as gently as he could, approaching Techno once more, acutely aware of Phil, Tommy, and Wilbur hovering behind him. “Hey you muffin, can I come give you Luna?” That get’s Techno’s attention; glazed eyes flicker up to Bad’s face. “S’s g’ne.” he whimpers and Bad shakes his head, willing Techno to be in control of himself as he drops down a few feet away. “Here, let me help you put my jacket on so you won’t get anything gross on her.”

Techno lets himself be manhandled, reaching out for the pig and clutching it to his chest as he starts to cry again. Skeppy creeps closer seeing that Techno is letting Bad be close, dropping down so they’re flanking him again. Techno cries himself out quickly, now, pressing closer to his friends until he all but passes out. “I don’t wanna leave him like...this with them.” Skeppy mutters, and Bad pretends he doesn’t see the worry flicker over Phil’s face. 

“We aren’t gonna leave him.” He promises. “Here, get his bag and I’ll get him.” “I can do it.” “...Skeppy, you muffinhead, you’re like the same height. He’s gonna crush you.” Skeppy grumbled but moved to grab Techno’s bag as Bad stood, pulling the smaller teen up with him. Techno somehow stayed asleep, clearly completely exhausted, as Skeppy took a few cautious steps back towards the others. 

“I can get him” Wilbur spoke up, took a step closer, and Bad practically  _ growled  _ at him. “Dude, what the fuck?” “Language.” Skeppy takes a step closer to Bad, till he’s sort of between the two teens. “Let Bad get him, Wil.” Phil speaks up. “Come on,  _ everyone,  _ we’re going home and then I can drop you two off ok?” “NO.” “ABSOLUTELY F...NOT.” Bad bit back a slight smile at Skeppy’s attempt to censor himself. “My parents are at work and Bad’s really don’t care if he’s home. We aren’t leaving Techno like this.”

Phil opens his mouth to argue but to everyone’s surprise Tommy speaks up. “Let’m come dude he’s just gonna panic if he fucking wakes up with just the people he barely knows there.” Phil can’t argue  _ against  _ that so he sighs, nods, and leads the group back to his car.

When they get home, Bad and Skeppy vanish upstairs with Techno. Wilbur trails after them, and Phil slumps onto the couch trying to resist the urge to get a coffee or a drink. Wilbur watches silently as Bad and Skeppy work as a goddamn  _ unit;  _ Bad coaxes a half-asleep Techno out of his dirty clothes while Skeppy assembles the medical kit and starts to wash the blood and vomit off of their friend’s skin. Wilbur’s breath catches as he sees the bruises littering the boy’s chest and the way he’s cradling his right arm.

Skeppy curses at the sight, Techno stiffening in pain but never once complaining as his hand was splinted and fingers prodded at his tender ribs. “Tech, can I wash your hair?” Skeppy all but begs and he gives a hesitant nod, because if this is the last time he gets to see them he can’t bring himself to say no. Skeppy’s fingers are surprisingly gentle and it  _ is  _ nice to get the grime out of his hair. “M’srry” he groans, stumbling slowly back to his room. 

Everything  _ hurts  _ and he feels small and fragile but bad and Skeppy drop down on either side of him, bad nudging Luna against his hands until he takes her. He wants to talk, to tell them to go, or to beg them to stay, but he  _ hurts _ and so he just takes a shaky breath, closes his eyes, and lets himself trust for a moment that they’ll keep him safe.

Bad leans his head against his best friend’s shoulder, feeling soothed by Skeppy’s whispers about minecraft and Techno being warm and safe and  _ alive  _ draped over their laps. He’s acutely aware that he’s going to pay for this later, but for now he feels  _ safe,  _ dozing off against Skeppy’s shoulder as the other teen wraps a blanket sort of awkwardly around all 3 of them. “Stop talking about minecraft and sleep you muffin.” 

  
Skeppy snickers, snuggling closer. The bed is pretty comfy and the blanket is  _ soft  _ and this room he stepped into four minutes ago feels much cozier than his own dark,  _ lonely  _ one, so he’s asleep before he can even think about whether or not this was his _best_ plan.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Skeppy is an overprotective muffin and Phil is conflicted

Bad wakes up first. Skeppy is sprawled half on top of him and half wrapped around Techno, who was sound asleep. He shivers a little, and apparently that’s all it takes for Skeppy to blink awake and turn to stare at him. “You good man?” He opened his mouth to respond and grimaced a little as he found himself coughing hard. “...yeah, that answers that.” “ ‘m fine.” He groans, shifting a little and giving an apologetic sound when Techno jerks awake against his side. “Sorry Tech.”

None of them really want to get up. Light is streaming through the window and despite the fact that it’s like, ten AM, none of them even wanted to consider the idea of going to school. “Mornin’ “ Techno sighed, hauling himself up right, hissing in pain. “Dude, stop being a dumbass and move SLOW” Skeppy grumbles. “You’ve got busted ribs and a fucked leg.” “Busted means broken, my ribs are more  _ bruised.” “ _ Yes, that’s  _ so much better.”  _

A knock on the door drew all of their attention. Skeppy sat up straighter, scooted forward a little so he’s between the door and Techno, who was still taking very precise breaths. “Yeah?” 

Tommy peaks in, giving a little wave. “Phil said to tell you guys that breakfast is ready and it’s pancakes and he makes really good pancakes so you could come. That last half was me not him.” Techno nods, slinging an arm carefully around Skeppy’s shoulders since if he tried to stand alone, both of his friends would probably glare at him.

He got his balance slowly; he was certain his leg wasn’t broken, but he’d sprained the ankle at least, and he was  _ pretty  _ sure his knee wasn’t doing amazing either. He felt  _ shitty  _ but he couldn’t say no to Phil, not if he wanted the one more week he was supposed to get.

Skeppy helped him limp downstairs and to the couch. Phil stands at once when he sees how shaky Techno is. “What’s wrong kid?” he questions, crossing the room in a few long strides. Skeppy speaks up before Techno has to consider doing the same and he feels a surge of thankfulness for his friend. “He fucked up his ankle yesterday.” Wilbur snorts. “Wasn’t yesterday and you know it, dude.”

Phil glanced over his shoulder and Wilbur elaborated. “He’s been limping since he got here; he’s got it pretty subtle but when you’ve. Hidden injuries. It’s easy to see it.” Techno grimaces, presses closer to Skeppy. Bad had crept into the doorway, leaning “casually” against the wall at an angle that would make it easy for Skeppy and/or Techno to bolt through the door past him.

“Ok, kiddo, we need to talk I think.” Phil’s voice is gentle, but Techno presses closer to Skeppy all the same, Luna tucked against his chest with his free hand because after yesterday he was not putting the stuffed pig down. “Techno, is there anything I can do to help you feel safer here?” Techno bites his lip hard, ignoring Skeppy’s hand tightening slightly on his arm.

“Breathe, Tech.” he breathed. “You know Bad and I won’t let anyone lay a finger on you with us here.” “But you aren’t here all the time!” he snaps, eyes wide and furious and  _ frightened.  _ “I don’t, I only. I only get another week here. I know how temporary placements work. I heard the social worker talking to you. It doesn’t...it doesn’t  **matter** if I trust you because in a week I’ll be alone and then I’ll get shipped off to some group home somewhere with no one and it won’t MATTER if you meant it when you said you didn’t hurt me.” 

He’s breathing hard, and Skeppy braces a hand against his shoulder, giving a firm “Breathe, Tech, you’re gonna hurt your ribs even worse. We’re not gonna fucking let them ship you off, got it? You’re our friend.” Bad crept slowly past Phil, pressing to Techno’s free side, grimacing as he started coughing again. “....Bad, please go lay down you look sick.” “I’m not sick!” “...Dude.” Techno grunts, flopping a hand over to press it to the back of his neck. “You’re sick. Lay down.”   


Phil just...watched. The  _ ease  _ at which the three interacted with each other, especially looking at how clearly uncomfortable Techno was interacting with anyone else, made him a little emotional. Techno looked more relaxed in those few seconds of just talking to his friends than he had in a week and….fuck, Phil was in deep. He did not want to let this child go and get hurt again.

Techno scooted over and glared at Bad until the other teen flopped down onto the couch with a groan. “I need to go home.” “Your parents are already not gonna let you in for being gone this long overnight, and if you sit out in the cold till you have pneumonia again I am going to kill them so no, you don’t.” Skeppy’s eyes are alight with protective anger and he can tell Bad really didn’t  _ want  _ to go back, or just felt dreadful, because he didn’t fight it.

Phil took the opportunity to step out of the room and to his office. Wilbur wandered back into the living room, claiming a chair and flipping the TV on. “Anything anyone wants to watch?” No one speaks up so he rolls his eyes slightly. “Tv or movie?” “TV.” Skeppy grunts. “Movies are too long to focus on.” 

He puts on the first episode of Supernatural and Skeppy cheers, ignoring Bad and Techno’s grumbles. “C’monnnn guysss you’re no fun.” Wilbur settles down in a chair, but Techno can feel the other teen’s eyes on him. “Techno, do you want me to grab the medical kit so you can wrap your leg?” Techno paused, considered, before giving a cautious nod.

When Phil returned to the room twenty minutes later, Techno was asleep, ankle and ribs being iced and knee wrapped. Bad was asleep, too, but Skeppy was awake, sitting on the floor nearby looking small. “Hey kid.” “Two things. One, if you hurt him, I will stab you. Two, I’m going to tell you something because you seem like actually an ok person and I think he’d want you to know even if he thinks he doesn’t.” 

Phil just blinks at the teenager, who’s dark eyes are staring rather intensely at him. “His birthday is tomorrow. He doesn’t...he doesn’t expect. Anything. He’d never expect. Anything. But he deserves a goddamn cake for his birthday and I think if Bad and I try to cook one my kitchen will burn down so...yeah.” 

“Do you know what cake he likes?” “I uh...I bought Bad a birthday cake a bit back, chocolate. Techno didn’ say it was his favorite but he ate three pieces so.” Skeppy shrugs, leaning back so he can rest his head on Techno’s shoulder. “Chocolate. If you hurt me I’ll bloody punch you.” He warns. Phil just nodded, settling down in a chair to watch whatever it was that Wilbur was currently very focused on.

Techno was still sound asleep, so Skeppy hesitated for a long time before asking, very carefully “Why do you not want him?” Phil damn near choked on his coffee, coughing into his arm for a moment. Skeppy stills, glances around, but no one seems to waken; even Wilbur and Tommy are asleep curled up together in the armchair. Bad twitches, whines, but Skeppy drags his fingers through his friend’s hair and he settles with a whining cough.

“What...I’m sorry, kid, what?” Skeppy glances back up, all the softness in his dark eyes gone. “You don’t want him.” He repeats. “I know this is Temporary, Techno made that very clear, and I don’t...understand why you’re pretending to care when you don’t want him.” Phil just...blinks at the teen because in truth he doesn’t have a good enough answer and he  _ knows  _ it. “I wasn’t asked to foster him long term” he tried, and Skeppy just gives him an unimpressed look.

  
“You coulda asked they’re desperate to get him gone. He’s been in 96 placements in 10 years. He’s barely lasted a month anywhere ever. You seem nice enough but...either you care or you don’t sir. If you don’t stop letting him hope and if you do then fucking do something.” He closes his eyes, leans his head back against the couch, and is almost immediately asleep, leaving Phil in silence. He let himself  _ feel  _ for a moment before hauling himself up and stepping into the kitchen because...yeah. He needed to get a cake.


	5. Chapter 5

Bad is definitely, definitely,  _ definitely  _ ill. He coughs painfully, tucking his head against his chest and trying to keep himself quiet so he didn’t wake up Skeppy or Techno. He could tell he had a fever, his hands trembling a little as he shifted to sit up, immediately regretting it when his head spins and he has to bite down a moan of pain.

“You alright dude?” He flinches hard; eyes darting up to where...Tommy, was that his name? Was chilling in a chair playing something on his phone, eyes not even looking up at him. “I’m fine.”Bad mutters, but he doesn’t think the younger teen believes him. “Do you want cough medicine? Phil had to run out to the store but he said to see if you needed it when you woke up.” 

He hesitates; this could easily be a trap but Tommy doesn’t seem to  _ care  _ enough to bother to make it one and he  _ hurts  _ and he knows Skeppy and Techno, who are mercifully still asleep, will very much push him to take it and be worried if they wake up right now and he does not want to be a bother and so he nods and gives a meager “okay.” 

Tommy tosses him the package of dayquil and he makes sure to read the label before taking two, giving a quiet thanks before settling back down. He thinks for a brief moment that Tommy will let them sit in peace but then the blond is talking again. “So...D’you need some soup or somethin’?” He tilts his head at the taller boy.

“I can make soup” He coughs, hauls himself vertical. Skeppy stirs a little, but he drags his fingers through his friend’s hair, soothing him back into sleep as he snuggles closer to Techno. Tommy looks a little concerned as he stands, taking a long moment to keep his balance. “Dude, sit down, sick people don’t havefta make their own goddamn soup.” 

He nudged him back towards the couch but the sick teen flinched hard, tripping over his own feet. Tommy grabbed his arms to stop him from falling into his friends, eyes widening a little in worry at the panic on the other teen’s face as he eased him to the ground and took several steps back. “I’m gonna get you some soup don’ fucking get up again, yeah? You’re gonna get hurt.” 

Bad hunches in on himself and tries to breathe, hands shaking. He forced himself to take deep breaths; he understood, rationally, that the kid hadn’t been trying to hurt him but he still found himself having to take a long time to calm. “I’m sorry” Tommy spoke up again from where he was heating up soup in the kitchen. “I shouldn’t have pushed you.” “S’okay.” Bad whispers, leaning his head back against the couch. 

He’s calmed himself mostly by the time Tommy crosses the room and offers him a bowl of soup. He shakily starts to feed himself, the warm soup filling his stomach and soothing the aching pain in his throat and stomach. He dozes off like that; someone grabs the bowl before he can spill it but he can’t find the words to thank them.

Wilbur is tying his boots on the way down the stairs when he turns to the side and finds Skeppy tugging on his shoes. The smaller teen had somehow switched places with Bad, the taller now sprawled on the couch half on Techno, without waking either, which was half scary and half impressive. “Are you going out?” “...yes?” “Where to?” Skeppy tilted his head.

Wilbur stares at the other teenager, who is shifting a little, fingers rubbing the string of his hoodie. “I uhh...I gotta buy some stuff can I come with?” Wilbur blinked, taking in the boy more carefully; his voice was confident but there was something  _ careful  _ in how he held himself that was familiar, and  _ concerning.  _ “Yeah, sure, c’mon man.” Skeppy nods, tugging something out of his pocket and tucking it carefully into one of Bad’s hands before following out the door, shivering a little. 

Wilbur is starting to regret not asking what the plan was. “Hey Skeppy? Where are we going?” The other teen doesn’t look at him, crossing the road and ducking into a rundown building. He fumbled with the keys, stepping into the small studio apartment. It was pretty small, but Skeppy moved through the space with quiet confidence. 

“This is where you live.” It’s not a question, and Skeppy does not treat it like one. “Yes. Can you carry something for me.” He blinks, tilts his head, but...nods. “Yeah, why are we here?” “I gotta grab Techno’s present.” he re-emerges from the bedroom with a backpack on his back, shoving a box into Wilbur’s hands and a second bag on his back. 

They stop by the store for soup. Wilbur doesn’t question Skeppy and the teen finds that he deeply appreciates that. Phil is home when they get back, and Bad is awake, Techno still asleep. “Hey. I brought your bag.” he drops down next to the couch, leans his head on Bad’s shoulder. “Thanks ‘Geppy.” “C’mon, I’ll wash your hair.” Skeppy whispers.

“We gotta wake Tech up then, he’s on me.” “Yeah, sure,” Skeppy hesitates, glancing towards Phil. “What?” “I’ve got his birthday shit.” “Language, Skeppy!” 

Phil took a step in their direction, pausing when Bad stiffened. “I can put it somewhere for you, if you’d like?” Skeppy hesitates but the man looks honest so… “Ok.” He passes the box and bag to Phil, who steps out of the room. “Ok...you wake up Techno, I’m gonna get out of my boots.”

Techno leans against the wall in the bathroom watching. Bad is slumped against his side, still clearly feeling crappy if he’s actually letting Skeppy take care of him. Techno is icing his knee again;the swelling was down but it still ached with enough pain that he didn’t want to not try and help it. Skeppy had finished washing Bad’s hair and was mostly now just petting his friends’ hair which, reasonable. Techno felt calm, here, water running over his hair, Luna tucked safely to his chest.

“Skeppy?” His voice was careful but his friend paused. “Yes?” “W...when I get returned, can I come stay with you?” “Course. You’re my friend, I meant it when I said we wouldn’t let you get taken away you fucker.” “Language.” Bad mutters, snuggling closer to Techno’s side. “My parents texted me before.” 

Both of the others still. “How bad?” Techno questions cautiously, and Bad passes him his phone. Techno skims the message and sees red, shoving the phone into Skeppy’s waiting hands and trying not to scream. “Tech, ‘s ok, we knew this was comin’.” “They fucking THREW YOU OUT?” Skeppy growled, voice sharp and angry. “Bad, they can’t just...do that.” “You and I both know they can.” 

“We need to get your stuff.” The sick teen groaned, nodding in agreement. “We’ll go tomorrow.” Techno grunts, a wordless promise that he’d be here tomorrow to do it, and he feels his best friends, his  _ only  _ friends, relax at the implication. “I...I know we shouldn’ take advantage of Phil not being an ass, but can we just go cuddle and watch youtube for the rest of the day cause I’m exhausted.” Skeppy grumbles, and Techno nods, presses closer to his side.

Techno rolls over, nudges Skeppy down and washes his friend’s hair with shaking fingers. He knows Skeppy is desperate for affection, and his own nervousness with physical contact was worth it when his friend gave a happy sigh and leaned into the fingers scritching over his scalp. 

Phil peaks into Techno’s room an hour later and finds all three teens in a pile on the bed. Skeppy is sound asleep, tucked between Bad and Techno. For a moment, he thinks they’re asleep too, but Skeppy makes a sad little sound and both move, tuck themselves closer, one of Techno’s hands coming up to scritch at his hair until he stills again.

They look so  _ peaceful  _ that Phil decides against waking them, stepping back out to the livingroom where he’s a little surprised to find Wilbur clearly waiting for him. “Hey Wil. Everything ok?” “I uh…” The tall teen hesitates, looking far less certain than usual. “You should talk to Linda. You should let him stay, Dad.” Phil blinks at his son for a moment; he knew Wilbur hadn’t liked the boy when he’d first come and his son had enough abandonment issues that him wanting his father to actually have to spread his time out more meant he thought this was  _ important.  _

“I know.” Phil sighed, and he did. “I was about to call her. I...I know, kid. I know.” He sighs, leans back on the couch, fumbles for his phone. She answers on the third ring. “Hey, Linda? There’s something we need to talk about.” 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK SO HI I NEED HELP WITH SOMETHING.
> 
> I'm working on a new story in an AU where all the DSMP gang are hybrids and I need opinions on what they should be (Besides fundy/ant/techno for very obvious reasons lol). PLS Comment if you have any ideas!!!

Techno woke to someone shaking him. He lashed out instinctively, disorientated and confused as both his wrists were grabbed. “Techno, Tech, c’mon dude I need you awake!” Skeppy sounded  _ panicked  _ and that was enough to remind him where he was. He nodded and Skeppy dropped his arms, but the panic didn’t leave his face. 

“Bad doesn’t sound good and his fever is 104 and I think he needs like, a doctor like, now.” Techno rolls over instinctively, presses a hand to Bad’s neck and his ear to his chest and grimaces because Skeppy...is  _ right.  _ Techno tugged him upright and started working the taller boy into his jacket. “Where’s the nearest clinic?” “Tech, it’s fucking 3 AM, you have a busted knee, and I can’t carry him.” 

“We can’t ask Phil.” “Why?” There are about a million reasons in Techno’s opinion but he looks at his best friends. One is panicking, the other is pale and shaking and  _ ill,  _ and he’d be happy to get sent to another goddamn country if it kept them safe so he nods. “Get Phil. I’ll get his jacket and shoes on.” “And yours?” 

There’s a question in it and he nods. “Course, Skep. Not leavin’ you ‘lone.” He grunts, pulling on his dirty sneakers and thin sweater. By the time he has both of Bad’s boots on, Phil is opening the door. Techno opens his mouth to give a point-by-point explanation of why Bad needs to go to a doctor but Phil just nods and says “Ok, I’ve got him.”

He takes a step forward and Techno  _ snarls,  _ pulls his friend into his arms and puts himself between Phil and him. “Ok. You get him, that’s fine.” Skeppy grabs their bags, tucks Luna into Techno’s, and slips under his arm. They move awkwardly; Techno is hobbling with Skeppy holding up a lot of his weight, Bad cradled safely to his chest. 

He’s surprised to see Wilbur and Tommy are already in the car. Wilbur is asleep and Tommy gives them a worried look but Techno drifts, dissociating or panicking he isn’t sure, until the car stops and Skeppy is tugging him to his feet and into the emergency room. “Skeppy, you gotta, check ‘im in.” “Huh?” “You’re his emergency contact.” The smaller teen gives him a look of complete confusion.

“When he sprained his wrist, had’ta help him fill out the forms.” Techno grunts, clearly starting to panic at the sheer number of people and the talking and machine sounds filling the air so Skeppy nudged him to sitting in one of the uncomfortable chairs, Bad tucked against his chest. 

Time passes sluggishly. Bad squirms and whimpers, gasping coughs filling the air, and Techno just holds him tighter, rocks them both nervously. It feels like forever has passed before the nurse comes to take him back and that’s when things  _ rapidly deteriorate.  _ Techno takes two liberal steps back as the nurse grabs for Bad without asking, giving a furious shout, laced with fear. “No, You can’t take him!” Skeppy is pretty sure he’s the only person who knows how much of a miracle it is that Techno didn’t hit him.

“What the fuck dude!” The nurse shouts, and Techno can feel the eyes of the waiting room on him, his own breathing shortening in panic. Skeppy drops down at his side, forcing himself directly infront of the panicking teen until his diamond-blue eyes are all Techno can see. “Tech, Breathe, breathe man, deep breaths. You’re ok.” Techno is trembling, eyes unfocussed and blank with  _ fear,  _ and Skeppy prays no one else gets closer.

Techno is three years old again, curled up under a bed while his father hits his mother. He is five, watching the paramedics taking mommy out the door and promising she’d be ok. He is five, standing on the steps of a foster home because  _ they lied they took her and she never came back and he was alone and he doesn’t want to be alone anymore please he can’t not again, not again.  _

The nurse is still shouting and Techno flinches hard, so Skeppy spins on his heels and  _ snarls  _ “Can someone shut that  _ bitch  _ up before he gives my friend a goddamn panic attack?” One of the other nurses says something but the shouting stops and Techno is still shaking, eyes lost and afraid. “Hey, Tech? You trust me, yeah?” Skeppy keeps his voice as even as he can even though he’s shaking, too, and he almost cries in relief when Techno gives a tiny nod. “Ok. ok, there we go, we’re ok Tech. I need you to let them take Bad, yeah?” 

Techno whimpers, but Skeppy keeps going. “Phil’s gonna go with him and make sure he’s ok, yeah? He’s gonna be fine, Tech, we’re at a hospital, he’s  _ safe. _ ” Techno gives a shaky, broken little sound, looking so  _ lost  _ that Skeppy can’t help but slowly reach out and grasp his hand, wildly trying to understand what it was that was scaring Techno in particular. “They’re not going to take him, Tech. He’ll come back, I  _ promise.”  _

Techno shutters, and Skeppy makes a note to ask what memory he was stuck in later, but for now he just gently coaxes Techno’s hands open, grimacing at how he’d gotten his nails into his hands. One of the nurses approaches, meeting Skeppy’s pleading eyes gently. “Hey there kiddo.” Her voice is gentle. “We’re just gonna take your friend back and get an IV in his hand to get some fluids in him and then you can see him, alright?”

Techno takes a shaky breath, but he lets Skeppy coax his hands down and help the nurse help Bad into the wheelchair. Phil hesitates, but Skeppy glares at him until he turns to follow. Another nurse approaches, crouches down by Skeppy’s side and asks “Is your friend ok? Does he need to be seen?” 

“No, he.” Skeppy hesitates; he hates to share Techno’s secrets but he also doesn’t want him admitted because of the severe flashback he’d clearly just had. “He’s got PTSD, I think that other nurse grabbing at him triggered him. Could we just have a bottle of water?” The man nods, returning a moment later with three, and Skeppy gives her a quiet thanks. 

A moment later, Tommy is in his field of vision. “There’s an uh, quiet room. It’s got like, stim toys and stuff. I can show you fuckers?” Skeppy hesitates, torn between waiting for news on Bad and going, but Techno is still shaking under his hands and he knows Bad would  _ kill  _ him if his own worry stopped their friend from getting help so he nods. 

Wilbur stays to wait for Phil, promising about six times to text as soon as Phil says  _ anything  _ before Skeppy is willing to go, quietly coaxing Techno into the blessedly quiet room. Tommy flops onto a beanbag as Skeppy sits, tucking Techno against his side and watching his friend break. Techno just starts to  _ sob,  _ head tucking into Skeppy’s shoulder as he howls, shakes himself apart in Skeppy’s grip.

Tommy’s footsteps catch Skeppy’s attention and he shakes his head a little frantically but Tommy, stubborn and young, doesn’t listen. He drops down, fumbling with the bag that Skeppy had forgotten in the lobby and tugging out Luna, thankfully smart enough to set her down and not try to give her to Techno. Skeppy takes her, tucking the stuffed pig between him and Techno until Techno’s shaky hands grab her.

“Thanks, kid.” “S’okay. I gotta phone, I could play music or something?” Tommy offers quietly. “It...it always helps me calm down.” Skeppy considers, then nods, and Tommy turns on something instrumental, calmer than he’d expected. “It’s uh, Wilbur’s.” Well, that explained it, then. Techno quieted, hands curled defensively around the stuffed pig, clearly still out of it but at least calmer than he had been.

“That was a bad one, huh Tech.” Skeppy murmured, feeling more than a little exposed and tucking himself closer to Techno’s side. “Is he ok?” Tommy questioned, flopping down playing minecraft on his phone. “Yeah...just a flashback. Was a bad one, though, I haven’t seen him that out of it since the time someone grabbed his shoulders from behind and shook ‘im. I’m amazed he didn’t punch the guy.” 

Tommy nods in agreement. “Yeah...I punched Phil, right after he got me.” “Really?” “Yeah, he talked behind me without warning me. I thought he’d be so fucking pissed but he apologized for scaring me. Wilbur has panic attacks, too. Phil won’t be fucking mad at him he’s not mean enough for that.” Skeppy sighed, nodded, feeling more than a little exhausted. 

They sit quietly for a long time. Techno calms as Skeppy’s hands run up and down his arms, murmuring soothingly. He comes back to himself little by little; he is sitting on something soft,  _ familiar  _ hands stroking his arms. Luna is pressed to his chest and there’s music playing. He  _ aches,  _ and there are tears drying on his face. He opens his mouth but he can’t make words come and his throat aches.

“Techno?” He must’ve nodded because  _ relief  _ fills Skeppy’s voice. “Here, I have some water.” A water bottle is pressed to his face and he trusts Skeppy enough to drink it, slumping closer to his friend, completely spent. “You’re ok, man, I’ve got you.” Techno is spent, eyes half-closed, clinging tighter to Luna. 

Techno feels an exhausted stab of worry for Skeppy; he sounds exhausted and Techno doesn’t remember the...well, he’s not sure how long, but he knows his flashbacks tend to be  _ bad.  _ He tries to make words come but they won’t, so he shakily tugs on Skeppy’s sleeve with a whine.

Skeppy,  _ loud stupid wonderful Skeppy,  _ gets it. He turns so he’s in Techno’s lap, providing much-needed pressure while getting himself the physical contact he craves. Techno’s free hand, one is still clinging to Luna, curls up to scritch his friend’s hair and he slumps into his grip. They sit like that for a long time, Techno fighting to remember where he is while Skeppy tries to hide the tears running down his face. 

Wilbur peaks into the room, knocking to announce his entry. Techno stiffens but Skeppy whispers something and he calms. “Hey guys.” His voice is gentle. “Phil says they’ll let you back to see Bad now, ok?” It’s been  _ hours,  _ though he’s not sure they know it; Tommy was asleep until Wilbur spoke and Techno looked  _ really  _ out of it. He stands, though, limping but not making a noise of pain. Skeppy doubted he even noticed he’d further fucked up his knee, following Wilbur.

Bad was  _ pale,  _ but he was alive, sitting up in bed. Techno whimpered a little, Bad patting the bed and giving them both a look that was so  _ him,  _ so gentle and affectionate and kind, that Skeppy was pretty sure he started crying, too. Techno curled up next to him, Skeppy claiming the other side, and they fell asleep like that, holding their friend as tight as they dared.

Techno woke up around noon to someone petting his hair. His tongue mercifully found words so he managed a “Hallo,” Sitting up to find Bad grinning at him. He looked  _ much  _ better, something that caused Techno to relax substantially. “Mornin’ Tech! Happy birthday, you muffinhead.” 

Techno paused, considered, and  _ oh right that was today.  _ Skeppy giggled at the look on his face, flopping against his free side. “We got you presents!” He nods at the box and bag sitting by their feet. “You..you did?” Techno’s voice was small; somehow, despite having friends for the first time ever, he’d never even let himself  _ consider  _ that they’d do this for him. “I...I don’t…” “Just open the gifts, Techie, we know you’re grateful” Skeppy laughs.

Techno fumbled with the box, carefully opening it to find a  _ warm  _ looking jacket. He runs long fingers over the fabric and it feels  _ new;  _ Techno isn’t sure when the last time he had a new piece of clothing was. “Thank you guys.” he shucked off his thin sweater and tugged the jacket on; it was  _ warm  _ and  _ safe  _ and he burrowed into it happily. 

“Ok, now bag!” Skeppy grins, shoving the backpack into Techno’s hands. He gives him a wide-eyed, fearful look, and Skeppy knew his friend well enough to know Techno needed to be shoved off the edge sometimes so he nudges at it. “Go on, look!” 

It takes a moment but he nods, fumbles the bag open. There’s a stuffed...gorilla? He’s not super clear on why it’s a gorilla though he has some vague recollection that it’s Skeppy’s favorite animal, a copy of “The Art of War” that he’d mentioned wanting after his old one got ruined, and  _ way  _ more chocolate than he could eat.

He bites back tears, tugging the stuffed gorilla into his lap. “You ok Tech?” Bad questions worriedly, and he manages a small nod. “ ‘ve never...y’know.” “I know. We love you man, you’re our best friend.” Techno gives a small smile, glancing around and noting for the first time that Tommy was sprawled asleep in a chair and Wilbur was sitting on the floor watching them. “Phil just went to grab something he’ll be back in a second.”

The doctor wandered in later; a younger woman, hair pulled back into a ponytail. She thankfully didn’t question why there were three teenagers crammed onto the bed instead of just one, or why two of the teenagers looked like they considered hiding under the bed as soon as she came into the room. 

“Your lungs are sounding a lot better, and you’re not dehydrated anymore. I’m thinking we’ll let you go this afternoon, yeah? I want one more run of antibiotics and I’m sending you home with a prescription for antibiotics and an inhaler in case you get short of breath again.” 

She’s walking out, after making Bad promise to rest and take the antibiotics, when Phil returns. “Hey gang.” He’s smiling and Techno gives a tiny wave, settling down and just kind of blinking at the chocolate cake with 16 candles that’s put down on the tray thing in front of them. 

“W...what?” He isn’t even sure how Phil  _ knows  _ it’s his birthday though he’s sure that some of those stupid fosterparent forms they make you fill out when you get a kid for two weeks must say it. “Blow out the candles, Techno, I want cake!” Skeppy grins, and Techno leans forward to blow them out. 

The cake is  _ good.  _ Techno’s only ever really had the cheap grocery store sheet cake that they’d serve once a month in the group homes he’d been in, besides that time Skeppy had bought a chocolate fudge cake for Bad. This was similar but different and he wasn’t enough of a baker to understand the difference between one chocolate cake or another but it was  _ so good  _ that he slowly began to dig in.

If he falls asleep there, curled against Skeppy’s side clinging to the stuffed gorilla, no one calls him out on it. Skeppy scritches his fingers over his friend’s scalp like he likes, curled up against Bad’s chest. If Skeppy drapes a hand too nonchalantly over Bad’s chest so he can feel every breath his friend takes, well, Tommy isn’t mean enough to call him on it, either.

Phil has to duck out again, to do some paperwork. Wilbur pulled out his guitar, strumming alone. Tommy was sprawled in a chair, too, playing a game as relative peace fell over the hospital room, the only sounds the quiet strumming of a guitar, the steady beeps of a machine, and occasional curses from Tommy when his character died.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Second to last chapter is Up! I am really excited to get into everyone's backstory, starting with Skeppy and BBH which might be a combined book because I apparently don't know how to write them not attached at the hip, but first we've got one more chapter of this coming :) I'm so glad you've all been enjoying it and I hope you all are looking forward to the other stories in this universe as much as I am.

Skeppy is debating whether it’s better to get Bad to come back with him or to get him to go back with Phil, but Phil thankfully makes that decision for them and says “I’d really prefer you come back with us tonight, kid; I’m not super comfortable leaving you alone for the night.” Bad nods, standing slowly, bracing himself on Techno for a moment. Techno was wearing his new coat, backpack on his back but stuffed gorilla in his hands, waiting quietly for Bad.

Skeppy hesitates outside the doors, glancing longingly in the direction of the car. “Skeppy, you can come with us.” “No, I don’t want to make him mad at you. I’m good, I can get myself home it’s only half a mile.” He assures. Bad hesitates; he thinks about supply closets and nightmares and Skeppy’s very large fear of abandonment and being alone issues but Skeppy is insistant. “Text us when you get home?” “Course.”

They get Bad settles in Techno’s bed. Techno leans against the wall, watching the door. Bad is sound asleep, head in his lap, the fact he was here and alive and warm and breathing soothing something anxious in Techno’s chest. He stares down at his phone; Skeppy had only texted once, saying he was safe, and Techno did not believe him. 

He dozed off like that; he was more than used to sleeping in uncomfortable positions, and this was no different. He twitches awake to his phone buzzing, Bad still sound asleep on his lap. It took him a moment to remember that oh yeah that feeling is my phone before his eyes dropped to it and he shakily answered, lifting it to his ear. 

Skeppy couldn’t breathe. He’d been fine, he’d gotten ready for bed and had some ramen for dinner and played some minecraft and gotten into bed and he was fine and then he’d slept and...nothing had gone well from there. He was back in his parents house, being thrown out, being told how no one would ever want him and no one would ever care about him ever again and how he was going to be  _ alone forever  _ and

And he jerked awake in his cold bed in his cold apartment  _ alone.  _ “It’s fine. Techno and Bad are fine.” he insisted weakly, clinging to himself. “They’re fine.” That didn’t really work, at all; he was still trembling, tears running down his face as his brain insisted  _ they hate you they hate you they’re never going to want to see you again and you’ll be alone again and and you’re going to be alone alone alone alone alone  _

“Skep?” “T...Techno?” Skeppy sounded small, terrified, broken in a way that Techno had never heard him sound before and he was moving before he had any idea what he was doing. He tugged on his coat and boots, tucking a blanket firmly around Bad’s shoulders. Skeppy had hung up, because of course he had. Techno glanced at the clock, grimacing at the fact it was just five in the morning.

He didn’t know what to do. He could walk, but Phil would get angry and Techno desperately wanted to stay even if he knew the man didn’t want him but if he woke him again surely he’d be furious but Techno couldn’t just let Skeppy be alone and potentially  _ hurt  _ just because he was afraid. 

He was weak. He knocked on Wilbur’s door, meeting the other teen’s eyes with his own and relieved when Wilbur read the fear there. “Is Bad ok?” A nod. “Ok. Do you need to wake Phil?” Techno make a keening, frightened sound, shook his head hard and fast. “No, no, I can’t, I don’t want him to get rid of me even faster than he will otherwise,  _ please.”  _ Wilbur reaches out, grabs his foster-brother’s shoulders, does his best to project confidence. “He won’t, Tech, I swear. He won’t make you go. C’mon, I’d drive you but I can’t drive other people yet.” 

Techno knocks, Phil doesn’t respond. He knocks again, hard and fast and frightened, and a moment later Phil is at the door rubbing sleep from his eyes. “Yeah id? What’s wrong?” Techno hesitates, still clinging to Wilbur’s arm as if he believes, or wants to, that the other teen will protect him. “Needa ride.” Phil, wonderful kind Phil, doesn’t ask. “Ok. Let me get my shoes on.” 

He feels  _ so bad  _ for leaving Bad, but there is no other option. He texts him “Going to get Skeppy. We’re safe.” as he scrambles into the car, curling his knees to his chest. Phil glances over, gives the boy what he hopes comes off as a reassuring smile. “I’m not mad, kid. I’m very happy that you came to me.” 

Techno doesn’t  _ understand  _ but he nods anyway, watching silently as they drive. It’s not too far and Techno is out of the car practically before it’s stopped, hurrying to Skeppy’s apartment and pulling out his key, fumbling with the door. He is inside in a moment, darting towards the bedroom. Phil follows, quieter, gives Wilbur a worried question.

“Does he live here alone?” “I think so, yeah. He said it was his place.” That deeply concerns Phil but he just nods, glancing into the bedroom. Techno is kneeling, one hand reached out to the smaller figure who was trembling in front of him. He said something, too soft for Phil to hear, but it must’ve worked because Skeppy hurtled into him, clinging. 

“Hey, Skep, Skeppy, you’re ok, ‘m here. You’re ok.” Techno whispered awkwardly, rubbing his hands up and down the smaller teen’s back. He knew Skeppy didn’t like being alone but he wasn’t sure that he’d ever actually understood just how  _ bad  _ it was until Skeppy was clinging to him, trembling half sprawled over his lap,  _ hurting  _ his arms from how hard he was clinging.

It was clear the other teen was running on  _ just  _ adrenaline, because within a few minutes he’d slumped in Techno’s grip, face pressed into his shoulder, sound asleep. Techno stood slowly, grimacing a little at how stiff his ankle had gotten as he hobbled slowly back towards Phil and Wilbur. “Is he ok?” “Mm hmm.” Phil hesitated, and Techno could  _ see  _ him wondering if it was OK to push and so Techno spoke up before he had to. “He’s got ah, Abandonment Issues. Doesn’ like being alone. He’s ok now.” Phil nodded, opening the door so Techno could get out and to the car without having to free a hand.

Twenty minutes later, Skeppy was sound asleep sandwiched between Bad, who was still sound asleep, and Techno. Wilbur leaned against the wall, all faux casualness. “What’d she say?” “Who?” “....you know who.” Phil sighs, closing the door quietly and leaving the teens to sleep. “Are you sure, kiddo?” Wilbur glances back at the closed door, something soft and worried in his eyes as he nods. “Course I’m sure. And so’s Tommy.” “Then she’s coming by with the papers Tomorrow. I’ll talk to Techno when he wakes up.” 

  
Wilbur nodded and went to bed. Phil remained a moment longer, staring quietly at the door. He felt a sudden, desperate surge of protectiveness not just for Techno, but for all three of the teenagers. The fact that Techno had  _ trusted  _ him enough to wake him in the middle of the night to help his friend meant something, and Phil was more than smart enough to know that fact. He just hoped it meant enough. 


	8. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil has meetings, Wilbur is stressed, and everyone just needs a break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it! I'm sorry this took so long to write I was having some inspiration issues. I really hope it's worth the wait.

Techno woke up feeling  _ safe,  _ tucked against Bad’s side with Skeppy in his grip. His smaller friend was still sound asleep, which wasn’t surprising considering how much adrenaline he’d spent the night before, but Bad was awake, watching him worriedly.

“I know I’m sick but I thought Skeppy was home?” He grimaces, shakes his head, tightening his grip on their shorter friend a little. “It got bad.” he grunts, and Bad thankfully understands that enough to just nod, eyes wide and concerned as he sat up slowly, somehow still managing to shift enough that Skeppy blinked awake.

“What are we doing today?” “I don’t know. We need to get Bad’s stuff still.” Techno reminds Skeppy, who grimaces. “Yup!” Techno nods, slinging his legs out of bed and getting halfway to vertical before he almost falls over, catching himself on the wall and the desk with a yelp because...yeah, ok, carrying people with an injured leg and ribs was a bad idea, got it.

Skeppy scrambled up to help him sit, grimacing as he sees how swollen Techno’s knee is getting. “Yeah, no, you’re keeping off that one” Bad decides, sliding under Techno’s other arm and ignoring all of the “YOU’RE STILL SICK” protests that come from both of them. 

Techno slumps onto the couch, presses the ice that Wilbur hands him to his knee. “Phil had to go out for a bit.” He explains, and Techno nods, leaning over to take the bottle of water and ibuprofen that Bad passes to him. Skeppy sits, too, downing some coffee and working with Bad to make a list of what the taller man needed to get from his parent’s house. 

It was Bad who brought up the...obvious issue. “How are we gonna get there?” “We could walk” Techno grunts, but Bad and Skeppy both swing around to give him relatively identically incredulous looks and he sighs. “Ok, ok, nevermind,” he grumbles. “I coulda walked.” “You can’t STAND.” Skeppy protests but Bad interrupts before the two can start squabbling. 

“We could wait till Phil gets back but I don’t want to give them more time to get rid of your shit…” Skeppy considers, ignoring the sharp “language” from Bad. “Wilbur you can’t drive you said?” Wilbur shakes his head. “Well, I can but I can’t drive other people for a few more months plus Phil has the car at the moment.” Skeppy sighs, leans his head back against the wall trying to think of a solution. 

“I could call Dream?” Bad offers, grimacing when he feels Techno stiffen slightly; he’d never been the biggest fan of Dream and his friends, but he nodded slowly because there wasn’t really a better option. “Sure.” He grunts, not entirely sure that he means it. Somewhat more importantly, he’s pretty sure the man won’t  _ answer,  _ but Bad pulls out his phone and texts anyway.

“They’ll be by in like, fifteen minutes.” Techno nods, standing slowly on his good leg, clearly shivering a little in pain when he tests out his throbbing knee. “Techno, you can stay here,” Skeppy says quietly, an offer not an order and he’s not surprised when Techno doesn’t even respond, just hobbles over to get his shoes. “Ok, but you’re not climbing the tree, you’re on lookout.” Techno nods, knowing that’s the best idea he’s likely to be given, and starts lacing up his ratty sneakers.

Wilbur watches, having already texted Phil that the were going out and “do I stop them?? What do I do??” Phil had “Suggested” that he go to make sure they didn’t get arrested or anything and so he found himself shoved into the backseat next to two teens who he vaguely recognized from school, one with black hair and one with brown, who were bickering loudly. 

Techno was in the back of the van between Skeppy and Bad, who were having a whispered conversation. A dirty blond teen, who Wilbur was pretty sure but not certain was Dream, was driving, humming along to the radio and ignoring the chaos behind him. “So what’s the plan Bad, are we breaking in? Back door? Need Snapmap” “NOT my name you fucker” “Language!” Dream rolled his eyes and kept talking over them “To kick it down?}”

“No, we’re gonna climb the tree to my room. They might be home but it bolts from the inside and we can be fast. Dream you and Techno stay in the car in case we need to make a getaway.” Bad decides, and Dream nods, pulling up just around the corner so they’re not very obviously parking in front of the house. Sapnap and George tumble out, thankfully now quiet, being joined by Wilbur, who wasn’t sure how he got roped into  _ helping  _ with this.

Skeppy boosted Bad up, watching the teen clamber easily over to his window and slide it up. Techno had moved into the front seat, so he could see better, and was watching out the window trying not to panic at being stuck so close to Dream, who he could tell was watching him out of the corner of his eye. “So, Techno” “...ya”

He could hear the other teen hesitate for a minute before surging forward and finishing his thought. “Do you need any help? Are you ok? You were limping bad before and I know we aren’t Friends but Bad’s my friend and he’s your friend so.” He shrugs, but there’s something cautious in his voice. “M’okay.” Techno assures him, leaning back in his seat to get a better angle on the window before realizing that was a...very short answer. “Thank you. For asking.” 

Bad moves briskly, trying to ignore the throb of emotion in his chest. He pauses, glances over his shoulder, blinking when he sees that Skeppy does  _ not  _ see to be there. “...Skeppy?” Somewhat unsurprisingly Skeppy does not appear from where he’d been invisible and so they all just...keep packing and hoping he shows back up.

Skeppy had already gone ducking out the door and whistling quietly, eyes darting around the hallway. “C’mon pup, here pup! C’mere!” He calls, softly, taking slow steps forward. The sound of jingling draws his attention and he whistles again, a wide smile filling his face when he sees the little white dog run around the corner. “Hi there! C’mere, Rat.” He coos, scooping the dog up and backing slowly up when he hears footsteps coming down the hallway.

He runs, flings the door open, Lucy tucked under his arm. “Lucy!” Bad coos in delight, but Skeppy cuts him off with a sharp “No sorry they’re coming let’s go now.” Bad stiffens, nods, turns back to the window where Sapnap was helping George down the tree with a bag. He hesitates, takes one last look at the now  _ sparse  _ room, before slinging his bag onto his back and heading for the window.

Dream has the car in drive before they’re even all in, and he’s very glad that he does because he hears an angry shout from the house as he speeds down the street. Bad is tucked into the backseat between Sapnap and Skeppy, who is still cuddling Lucy to his chest. “Where to?” Dream questions, not taking his eyes off the road as he waits. Bad and Skeppy exchange a glance before Skeppy is giving Dream directions.

They all cram into Skeppy’s tiny apartment. Rocco and Lucy curl up together on Rocco’s bed and George makes everyone tea. Techno relaxes a little as he curls up, blanket tangled around him. Dream and Sapnap are flopped together on the ground, Bad and Skeppy having claimed the small couch. “Thank you guys for helping.” Bad says, quietly, and Sapnap laughs. “Course mate, any time. Do you guys need a ride?” 

Wilbur opens his mouth to say yes but Skeppy speaks up first, shakes his head no. “We’re good. Thanks. See you at school tomorrow.” Dream nods, standing and hauling George up with him as the three say their goodbyes and leave. Wilbur watches silently as Techno hauls himself up, drapes an arm around Skeppy’s shoulder, and lets himself be helped to the door. He was keeping all of his weight off of his right knee, and the smaller teen was clearly struggling to be a crutch as they headed for the door.

Wilbur hesitated; he would’ve called Phil, since he was his Dad and all and would certainly pick them up, but he didn’t exactly think he was done with his Very Important Meeting which meant he  _ couldn’t  _ come and he didn’t want Techno to think that Phil didn’t care. He grabbed Techno’s bag, pausing when the teen reached for it, fumbling through and tucking Luna under his free arm.

Bad wasn’t helping Techno, since when he’d tried Skeppy had been all “you’re still sick” and glared at him. He awkwardly fell into step with Wilbur, who was watching the duo who were lagging behind. “They’ll be okay.” Bad’s voice was firm, left no room to even consider another alternative, and Wilbur nods. 

Bad hesitates, drops his voice, holding out a hand. “Can I have your phone for a second, please?” Wilbur blinks but complies and watches as Bad quickly adds himself and Skeppy’s numbers to his contacts. “In case of an emergency” he explains when he catches Wilbur’s baffled eyes, and Wilbur nods, clearly understanding. 

It takes them far too long, for Wilbur’s taste, to get home; by the time they’re close Techno is clearly in pain, still stubbornly hobbling along clinging to Skeppy for balance and increasingly for support. Wilbur made a note to get Phil to drive Bad and Skeppy home if they tried to walk, because Bad was wheezing a little. 

It had started to rain. Wilbur sighed, falling back to Techno, who was shivering in pain, and Skeppy, who looked exhausted. “Hey guys.” “Mmmm?” “Tech, look at me for a second?” he shrinks back slightly but he does, eyes nervous. He looks  _ exhausted,  _ and there’s pain written onto his face and Wilbur can’t stand it. “Can I carry you?” He blurts out, and the other three just stare at him. “You’re clearly in pain and you’re shorter than I am, and you’re pretty scrawny, so I can do it. Please let me help?” 

He wants to say no. Everything hurts and he’s cold and wet and he feels awful and he wants to say no but his knee hurts so much and somehow, he  _ trusts  _ Wilbur a tiny bit. The older teen hadn’t hurt him yet and Bad was coughing which was bad and they needed to be home and he was slowing them down and so

And so he nodded. Wilbur blinked; he had  _ not  _ thought that would work, and tugged Techno up into his arms. He’s surprised and heartbroken when Techno stiffens before abruptly  _ melting  _ into the touch like no one has ever held him before. He’s not that short but he’s light enough that Wilbur easily carries him, picking up the pace a little as they head for home.

Techno feels  _ safer  _ than he’s willing to admit like this, head tucked under Wilbur’s chin, arms tight around him and his own arms shakily around Luna. The older teen is humming something Techno doesn’t recognize but it’s soothing and he indulges, for a moment, in letting himself feel  _ safe. _

Tommy hurries to get towels as soon as Wilbur asks. Skeppy helps Bad dry off as best they could, wraps a blanket around him and nudges the inhaler he’d been given after he got out of the hospital into his hands. Techno, on the other hand, barely seemed to realize the change of environment, even as Wilbur moved one arm to grab a towel and drive the trembling teen off, grimacing at how  _ thin  _ he is under his hands.

Wilbur isn’t mean enough to wake him, sitting down, Techno still held protectively in his grasp. Tommy takes a few dozen pictures once Wilbur dozes off and sends them all to Phil, who just about dies at the adorableness. He lets his youngest know that he’ll be home soon, turning the phone to show Techno’s social worker the picture with a small, proud smile.

Phil slipped quietly into the house. The paperwork had taken  _ forever  _ and there had been traffic and so it was dinner time by the time he stepped quietly into the house, blinking at the scene before him. The five were on the couches in the living room. Wilbur was sitting eating what looked like grilled cheese, Techno and Tommy tucked against his sides. Tommy and him were “arguing” about Tommy killing Wilbur in minecraft. Skeppy was curled up against Techno’s free side, also gobbling down grilled cheese and soup, with Bad sound asleep basically in his lap.

Phil sees the moment that Techno sees him because the teen stiffens, shrinks slightly closer to Skeppy, but he at least doesn’t bolt and that seems like a win. “Hey kid. Can I talk to you for a second?” He doesn’t know another way to ask but he hates that Techno still stiffens. “It’s not bad mate, you didn’t do anything wrong” He promises, but he can tell Techno doesn’t believe him as he takes a few slow, shaky steps in his direction. 

They sit down in the kitchen, which thankfully has line of sight to the living room so Techno keeps his dark eyes on his friends. “I had a meeting with your social worker today.” Techno  _ stills,  _ and Phil hurries to keep talking before the teen can panic; he can see the gears turning, see Techno’s eyes dart for the door.

“I wanted to ask her if you were available to be fostered long-term.” Techno stills, and Phil is reminded of what Skeppy had said, that Techno in all of his  _ years  _ in care has  _ never  _ been fostered long term. It makes him  _ furious _ to think about that but he pushes it down and keeps talking, gently, as he passes the folder in his hands to Techno, who flips it open and stares at the signed papers with wide eyes.

“If you don’t want to stay you don’t have to, she can find somewhere else but...if you want to stay you’re welcome here for as long as you want, kiddo.” Techno’s eyes dart up to his face, filled with such incredulous  _ hope  _ that Phil has to fight down the urge to cry. 

He doesn’t quite want to believe it. He’s never been  _ offered  _ this, a family; the only place he’s stayed for any length of time was his last home and that had only lasted...maybe two months before he spent a month on the streets after running away from there until he got caught. “I” His voice catches in his throat and he stutters for a moment, hating how small he sounded. “I can  _ stay?”  _

Phil nods, giving what he really hopes the boy can see is a reassuring smile. Techno looks a little lost, glancing almost desperately back to the living room, where Skeppy and Tommy are now arguing about which of them is better at Skywars while Wilbur talked about anteaters.

  
“You can stay.” He promises, wills the trembling boy in front of him to believe him, to believe that he cares. “Welcome  _ home,  _ Techno.”


End file.
